Lose Yourself
by Becula
Summary: Hermione has an unrequited admiration for her impressive potions professor, but is it as unrequited as she imagines it to be? It'll be K for now, M for later, so if you like lemons, keep updated!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Just taking JK's characters out for drinks, I'll give her them back soon, promise!**

**AN: Hello all, this is my third story ever! So hoorah, I'm actually uploading. I promise that I'll have more consistent uploads soon, I'm just in the middle of a lot right now, and barely have time to do anything extra curricular. But if you like my writing, please bear with me. Oh and another, please feel free to point out any spelling mistakes or things to me, because I don't have a beta to check it as of yet, so there are probably many, and if so, I apologise profusely! Read on, dear heart -  
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Hermione chuckled lightly as Harry and Ron both groaned in annoyance as they received their time tables from professor McGonagall. She looked down upon her own, and saw that their first lesson happened to be potions, hence the groans. On the first day back, how unlucky for them she thought with amusement, they absolutely **hated** Snape's class.

Secretly Hermione hoped that she could approach headmaster Dumbledore, about whether she would be able to sit her NEWTS a year early, giving her chance to take an apprenticeship through what would be her seventh year.

Yet the possibility of that happening, she thought, was highly unlikely. So she tucked the wandering thought to the back of her mind, just in time too, it was time for lessons to commence.

They had all missed the castle over the Christmas Holiday's, most of which Hermione had spent at the burrow, and a little at Grimauld place. After sending her parents to Australia during the war, and never being able to locate them again after everything had blown over, that where she spent almost all forms of holiday.

Hermione always though of her parents, almost every day in fact. Nothing special sometimes, just "Oh, mum would like that…" and then she'd cringe at the realization of not having a mum. Not anymore. She was determined to find them however. It was the main reason that she wanted to try and apprentice early, so that she'd have an entire extra year during which to search for the missing Grangers.

With renewed hope, she pulled the boys down to the dungeons. It wouldn't be right without professor Snape teaching potions, she reflected. She knew of his want to be the Defence against the Dark Arts professor, and how Dumbledore denied it every time. Professor Lupin had returned to teach for this year, with the war over, he was no longer needed by the order and found his life to be empty without something to do. Minerva had noticed instantly that the resident lycanthrope did not seem nearly has happy as when he had been a teacher, and cordially invited him to join the staff once again. He had accepted gladly, with a tired smile of utter relief.

Before she even noticed, Hermione was waiting outside professor Snape's classroom door, the boys looking at her oddly, and professor Snape himself inside the classroom staring out at her, elegant brow raised in question.

"How nice of you to finally join us Miss Granger." He said sarcastically, voice emotionless, seemingly… fed up, in her opinion. Lacking its usual biting venom.

"Professor I…" she began to explain, but was cut short and interrupted flatly by professor Snape.

"Just sit down Miss Granger; I have no want, or need, for a petty excuse."

She just stood and gaped for a small, unperceivable moment, before snapping her jaw shut and taking her seat. That was rather… un-Snape-like.

He returned up to his lectern at the front of the classroom, flicked his wand effortlessly at the black board, writing appearing on it, instructions and ingredients.

"I believe as you have chosen to continue this subject, I need not dawdle with explanations. You shall brew in silence, and place the vial on my desk, and leave in silence." He said lazily, with a harsh scowl writ upon his face. He sounded tired too, she thought, as though he couldn't even summon the energy to address the class.

She turned to the board and read only the name of today's potion, Alihotsy Draught, the effects of which induce hysteria. After reading the name she already knew its properties, how to brew it, and all of the ingredients. She was Hermione Granger, after all!

She once again became lost in her reverie whilst brewing, the process always relaxed her and was rather… not quite "mechanical" but almost second nature, she only needed a very small proportion of her mind working in order to brew potions, leaving the rest free to wander wherever it so pleased. She was glad for this, as unlike many of her friend she was sure, she did a LOT of thinking. Sometimes they were only mundane little things, but often deep intriguing thoughts. 

Professor Snape watched his sixth year Slytherin/Gryffindor class with minor disinterest. Why Albus continued to put the two houses together was beyond him. It often only caused arguments and accidents. Then again, who was he to argue with the old man, even if his attempt at minimising house rivalry had failed? Pretty much all of the students seemed more adept at getting along with one another now anyway, thank god for that, he thought.

He looked up to survey his class, his eyes falling upon Miss Granger, as they often did, if he was being honest. He didn't feel much like being honest today, and so he pushed the thought away, he didn't always look at Granger. 

She had that ever so slightly vacant look in her eyes. Not anything like the utterly gormless looks that other pupils seemed to take on, showing that they legitimately understood nothing. Granger's was totally different, it was easy to tell that she could perform the current task in her sleep, hence why her thoughts where elsewhere. She looked… upset. His brow furrowed, well that wouldn't do.

It didn't appear to be some insipid teenage incident that the other girls seemed to suffer with. Much deeper than something like that. He could see the way that her hands seemed to slow, as if along with the pace of her thoughts, until her movements ceased all together. He looked on with mild surprise as her hands rose to her eyes, to wipe the tears from them. He looked to her immediate left, to Potter and the Weasley dolt, surely one of them must have noticed her crying!

The boys were having a whispered conversation when they thought he wasn't looking, and continuing with their potions. Paying poor Miss Granger no mind. Well, he'd always said that they were idiotic.

Finally, about 5 minutes later, Weasley noticed her bowed head and a small sniffle.

Snape watched as the dunderhead opened and closed his mouth in a very fish-like manner several times, before settling on saying nothing, returning to his potion. "What. An. Idiot." He thought, cursing the boy's stupidity.

He continued to watch, unable to do anything. He could not be seen offering comfort to miss Granger, and of course she would never seek it from him in the first place, and secondly, he didn't want to offer her to leave the room to collect her thoughts and compose herself, as that would draw attention to the fact that she was upset and very likely just embarrass her in front of her peers.

She finished, naturally, before everyone else. She looked up from her cauldron eyes wide as she realized that she was done, and that she had been crying. She had been completely and utterly immersed in her thoughts that she hadn't been aware of anything happening around her. That could've been dangerous if there was a potions accident, she scolded herself.

Hermione bottled her potion in her usual vial, and popped the cork into the top. She cast a quick 'evanesco' at the remaining contents, that would not fit in the vial, and rather than levitating her cauldron, she carried it back to the store room, purely to give herself something to do. Sat firmly back in her seat, she pulled her sleeves down so that they covered her wrists more, and wiped her eyes.

Professor Snape watched fondly as she used that familiar muggle sticky label to write her name upon it, and stick it onto the vial. She could easily just use a single one, and erase the text each time. However she seemed to keep a little stack of them. He observed her write her name, the potion contained in the vial, and the date upon the post-it note, in her curly neat script.

She put everything else in her bag, took off her jumper and stuffed that in there too, it was always boiling with so many cauldrons on in one room. Slung the bag unceremoniously over her shoulder, and walked to the front of the class.

For reasons unknown even to him, Severus sat straight up in his seat as she approached. She tentatively placed the vial upon his desk, eyes cast down. He couldn't have that now…

"Thank you, Miss Granger." He said softly, so that the rest of the class couldn't hear.

Her head snapped up and her eyes flew to his, finding no sneer or sarcasm. For the first time in days a genuine smile graced her lips, and in his opinion at least, she looked very pretty when she smiled.

Her smile widened into a grin as she noticed the corners of her professor's mouth tilt upwards, not quite a smile, but it made her stomach flutter. He himself hadn't even noticed that he'd been almost smiling until she had, it made him feel sort of awkward, wanting to smile around her.

"Thank you." Was all she said, ever so quietly, but with such sincerity and intensity that it made his heart swell. He dipped his head in acknowledgement and she turned to leave.

The rest of her day would certainly be better than the beginning had been, she thought. It will all be alright.

She rippled her fingers in a small wave to the boys, Ron with a small apologetic smile upon his face, showing that he did notice her distress and wasn't sure about how to comfort her. She smiled back, in that understanding Hermione way.

**ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ** - **ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ**


	2. Chapter 2

The image of professor Snape's almost smile had been ingrained in her memory, and it was all she thought of before drifting off to sleep. It was almost unheard of that he smiled, well… even almost.

Unlike her best friends, and most of her peers, she had never hated Snape. Pretty much everyone did prior to the final battle, especially Ron, even more than Harry it seemed. Since he was discovered as a hero and warrior of the light, even Harry had formed a sort of grudging respect for the man, Ron disliked him as much as ever, regardless of all that he'd done.

She had always had a form of respect for the man, be it as a dueller, a potions master, or generally his intelligence. She even enjoyed his demeanour, and sarcastic, dry, witty humour. It was very similar to her own, though she tended to keep those thoughts to herself.

But Yes, she had always been attracted to him in one way or another, mostly to his mind, but now… After he had almost smiled at her, thoughts of him filled her brain, and made her stomach flutter. She knew it wasn't right, but she couldn't help it. She wondered if she could actually make him smile…

With that thought, she set of to breakfast, imagining ways in which she could make the dreaded bat of a professor smile. It should be a fun task, she thought.

"Hey 'mione! What's up? You look extra happy this morning." Ginny said, in that annoyingly carefree and chirpy manner. Contrary to popular belief, Hermione was most assuredly **not**a morning person. She was always on time and could often be annoyingly happy about exams and the like, but she hated mornings.

Before a cup of coffee she was a total and utter mess. Her hair even more wild than it was of a normal day, eyes mostly closed and she stumbled around, incoherent speaking, mostly grunts. Harry and Ron were most surprised to see her like this when she first stayed with them at the burrow years ago. They were now pretty good with it, making sure she had coffee and breakfast and a good hot shower whenever she was there, her brothers taking care of her.

"There's our Hermione." Ginny said giggling, only then did Hermione realise that she was lost in her thoughts, and completely ignored everything that Ginny had said. Harry had pushed a plate of toast in front of her, and Ron poured her coffee. She smiled at them both.

"Thanks boys, Sorry Gin'. You know what I'm like in the mornings." She tried, with a meek smile, hoping that she'd forget about her question and not pester Hermione about the cause of her smile.

Professor Snape observed her as he did every morning. The two boys, whom he still believed were idiots, at least managed to take care of her breakfast. Miss Granger really was a dreadful morning person, it's a wonder that she's so organised the rest of the time!

He imagined, with an **internal**smile, being able to do that for her. Feed her, in bed perhaps, she certainly wouldn't be a grumpy morning person if he had anything to do with it.

Severus had long gotten passed thinking that his affections were immoral, after many nights of internal war; the thoughts wouldn't stop no matter what he told himself, that he could make her happy. So he embraced them, and hoped that one day, when she graduated, he'd have to courage to ask her out to dinner.

Until then, he was stuck with small, unnoticed glances. For obviously he could not be seen ogling her in front of the entire great hall!

Checking his customary muggle watch, professor Snape left through the staff exit aside the head table, to return to his chambers. He hadn't a lesson until third period, and thought he'd quickly grade some papers, and have a little time to relax.

Hermione allowed herself a sidelong glance at her professor's billowing robes, as they swept through the arched doorway, before suggesting that the three of them trudge off to ancient runes. With a sigh, they all departed.

Professor Snape returned to his chambers, and upon entering saw his usual mail upon his desk, he insisted that it be delivered here, within privacy, unlike the great hall.

All the usual guff, daily prophet (He still had no idea why they sent them to him, his subscription was terminated many months ago), potions monthly magazine, letters from colleagues in the field enquiring about his attendance at various conferences, and… oh, a staff notice. How he loathed those, he'd prefer a howler any day.

He picked it up, the parchment was coloured in bright shades of the rainbow, and he would swear that it was **sparkling** up at him! How or more to the point **why**Albus made the effort still baffled him, why couldn't the old codger just leave parchment its natural colour? Peering at the letterhead, the Hogwarts crest, his eyes were drawn bellow to the bedazzled title. "Leavers Ball."

Scanning quickly through the paragraphs below; the message was that there would be a ball held for all of those in their seventh year, or those returning after the final battle, the "eighth years", before they take their exams.

As there would be no time after them, before they graduate. So it was in lieu of their leaving.

Very interesting, he thought. Of course it was compulsory that staff attend, Severus normally spend these evenings patrolling and acting as security. He however had plans for this year; it could be fun…


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Hello you guys, all I can do is apologize for not updating this in almost a year now. Life has been pretty hectic for me lately. I turned 18, have been dealing with the death of a friend, my own anxiety disorder (which I'm sure you can imagine makes me think about whether or not to write a lot because I think I'm not good enough) passed my driving test and got into university.

I also got a new computer so I can be writing all the time now, when I feel like I can, so please bear with me and stick around because I appreciate every single read, review and favourite of this story and myself as an author so much it's really amazing, thank you very much everyone!

Hermione's arms were positively aching as she unloaded the pile of books onto the small circular table in the library. She loved to sit here at this one, it was by the window, so it let in the most natural light for the longest amount of time, which meant that she could read for longer without having to light a candle to see by.

She flexed her sore fingers for a few moments, clenching them into a fist, and spreading them out wide. She repeated the process a few times, before stretching and yawning.

It was late, and she probably shouldn't even be there, but she had a herbology test the following day, and was used to running on very little sleep, despite what her friends thought. Sighing quietly Hermione slid down into the creaky wooden chair, the hard wood digging into her back most uncomfortably. Being a witch, she could easily conjure a cushion or a more comfortable chair, but she liked it. It reminded her of the library, her strict study regime almost as painful as the wood that dug into her flesh, and most of all, it kept her awake.

She reached for the largest and heaviest of the tomes that she had collected from the variety that stocked the shelves, it was always easier to read the largest one when she was most awake, then save the others for the early hours of the morning.

The natural light from the window behind her had waned to almost nothing, the moon not quite half full, casting a feeble silverish glow over all in its presence. Hermione stood to light a couple of candles around her, and checked her ever present muggle watch for the time. It was about , she'd read the next two books, and then head back to bed. She didn't normally study this late unless there was a test in class the following day.

Hermione was about to sit back down, but eyed the chair in scrutiny… surely a cushion would be alright, her back was ever so sore… She gave in and accio'd one of the pillows straight from her bed. They were those muggle "memory foam" ones that she'd brought from home. They were so lovely and firm, yet soft enough that they moulded to you, and cradled you…

Stuffing the pillow against the pain in the ass wooden chair, Hermione settled down to carry on studying for the evening. Eventually finishing the biggest of all the books she had chosen, and moving on to the second.

Severus was doing his nightly patrols. The headmaster had insisted that Filch was more than capable of patrolling alone, but that somehow didn't put his mind at ease. Despite what people might think, he cared very much about his students, even those who seemed to be persistently and constantly dunderheaded, he patrolled the castle nightly.

It was coming to the end of his route, he'd finish up with the library, right after the charms classroom. He was using this time alone, with no noise other than his own sturdy and regular foot falls to think about he was going to ask Hermione to dance with him at the ball. She would never agree to being his "date" or rather, attending the entire event with him, however he was sure that if he said the right words, made sure that he looked acceptable, he could pry her away from her date for a single dance…

His feet were walking him through the castle that he knew more than he did his own home, then again, Hogwarts had always been his home more than spinner's end could ever hope to be, so it was no surprise. While patrolling he kept himself alert to noise and danger, but could often use this time to think, as he walked the route automatically without even looking up if he so liked.

Severus was drawn out of those thoughts however by the single waning candle that appeared to be on in the library, whomever was in there had tried to conceal themselves in the corner table it appeared. The lone flame flickered ominously as his billowing robes created a woosh of air that nearly put it out!

His breath caught in his throat when he saw who it was. None other than the young Hermione Granger whom had occupied (plagued) his thoughts all evening. He looked closer in the dim light, to see that she had fallen asleep.

There was a great mass of what appeared to be Herbology texts, judging by the diagrams on the few left open, sprawled across the entire diameter of the table. A quill and inkpot remained untouched to her right side, she had obviously not needed to make notes in order to retain the information, he was sure that she already knew it anyway and this entire escapade was unnecessary.

He stepped closer. She had one arm laid out in front of her, her cheek resting upon it, facing to her left. Her wild and curly hair sprawled out above the pages she had fallen asleep reading, the petite weight of her head ever so slightly creasing one of the pages. She let out the smallest of snores in her sleep, and Severus released a breath that he hadn't realised he'd even been holding. He was in total awe, brought to such a peaceful state by the sleeping girl's form. She looked so heartbreakingly young and at peace. The lines that normally furrowed her brow when she frowned whilst reading were non existent; her mouth was relaxed, full lips pouting. Her breathing was quiet, but steady.

She looked so relaxed. He almost wished that he could just pull up the seat beside her, and sleep like that too. The headmaster had once told him that even during his sleep he looked tense and ready for battle. Not a fraction as relaxed as the sleeping siren before him.

Severus began to slowly and quietly return her discarded books to their shelves, by hand as opposed to by magic, and deduced that the ones piled to her left, were untouched. He'd keep those for her, in case she still wished to read them. Facing a moment of internal conflict, about whether he should wake her and walk her to her chambers, or simply levitate her sleeping peaceful form so as not to interrupt her rest, Severus decided on levitating her.

He knew for himself that the halls were empty, and it wasn't at all far to her room. He picked up the books that remained unread, and slowly and very carefully removed the one that was under her head, accidentally on purpose brushing her silky hair as he lifted it, and wandlessly levitated her into the air. He kept her hovering form purposely close to his body. He felt as though carrying her would break the spell that currently seemed to be over them both.

Hermione whimpered in her sleep, but did not wake. Severus hurried further to her head-girl's room; ever so Sthankful that she no longer resided in Gryffindor tower with the rest of her peers. That would have been extremely awkward indeed! The second advantage to her living here was that he had no portrait to gossip about what they'd seen, just Hermione's wards.

Which he found after seven minutes were more difficult to crack than he'd given her credit for, lesser men would have given up, but having been a spy, double agent and death eater did give the professor a rather unfair advantage.

Finally having all wards lowered the door swung open smoothly with thankfully no sign of a squeak as Severus stepped forwards and wandlessly closed it behind them both. Levitating Hermione he took a quick moment or two to glance around her rooms. They were like a smaller, less furnished version of the teacher's quarters. Though it looked as if Hermione had brought a few things from home.

The kitchenette comprised of mostly white tiles was spotless, three mugs were turned upside down and drained next to the sink, he assumed it was one each for the golden trio. A large book case that was definitely not Hogwarts-issue covered almost an entire wall, it was filled to the brim with books; leaving a cardboard box with a dozen more on the ground next to it. Trust Granger to bring a whole bloody library, he smirked, checking that she was still asleep.

The sofa and first armchair were standard, provided by Hogwarts, the second armchair that had a disgustingly floral print looked as though it had been brought by Hermione herself. A matching footstool sat innocuously on the floor beside it.

Feeling as if he had pried enough Severus opened the door which he assumed was her bedroom, to find it was a bathroom and was coloured a beautiful feminine lilac colour which made him smile, before actually finding her bedroom.

A double bed took the centre of the room, it looked soft and was missing a pillow, which Severus vaguely remembered being in the library and accio'd it back. Placing Hermione to one side of the bed, he re-arranged the pillows, pulled back the quilt and settled her under the covers. Removing just her shoes and the wand from her pocket the professor decided she looked at peace with the world and that was exactly as she deserved to feel.

With one last lingering look, Severus got up from the bed and watch as she rolled over smushing her face into the pillow and wuffling softly, before closing the bedroom door. He stood amongst her perfectly neat and Gryffindor living area trying to reign in the scream of utter frustration that was bubbling dangerously near the surface.

Closing the door to her quarters and putting every single ward back, plus a sneaky one of his own, Severus stormed back down to the dungeon cursing his own cowardice under his breath.

That was the closest proximity he'd ever been to the girl, he could have woken her and walked her back to the dorm, anything that meant she'd actually know that it was him.

"You really are a coward Severus old boy." he muttered aloud to himself taking a glance back to the girl's dorm before flying down the set of stairs like a bat out of hell.

He wasn't aware however that all of this had been seen by the eyes of a certain meddling headmaster. A grave frown showed underneath the man's beard.

A/N: I'm ever so sorry that this chapter was so short, but this is the first time in over a year that I'm getting back to this story, I had so many plans for it and I've completely forgotten where I'd like it to go, so I'm sort of starting from scratch but PLEASE stick with me!


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